Of Hookers and Chick Flicks
by Allers3
Summary: Because Matthew needed the money, and Gilbert needed the distraction. What neither of them realized, though, was that they both needed the company. Prucan, Spamano, oneshot. Rated for sexual situations and swearing.


**Hello, you! So welcome to my first contribution to the Hetalia fandom, haha. I can't actually remember how I got the idea, but… anyways, it took me a couple weeks to write (randomly writing a few hours a night), and.**

**Oh, a quick note to anyone reading my other stories: I'm sorry to say that I don't plan to continue either Forbidden Love or Freaks of Not Quite Nature anytime in the foreseeable future. They've been put on an indefinite hiatus, mostly due to a lack of inspiration. Sorry about that.**

**Yes. Anyways. Let's get started, yeah?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the show, or anything. Except the plot. Probably.**

**Warnings: Boy/boy, mentions of underage sex, mentions of prostitution, swearing, etc. You know the drill; don't like it, don't read it.**

Matthew Williams was not in his current line of work by personal choice.

He was seventeen years old and lived with his older brother, Alfred, in a run-down apartment on the darker side of the tracks. They were struggling to stay afloat, with no financial support from parents who'd walked out years ago. As such, Alfred had opted out of college, claiming that he wasn't cut out for 'that higher-education shit' anyways. Instead, he worked practically round-the-clock, insisting that Matthew remain in school, finish his secondary education, and go off to college with whatever money could be scraped together. He also insisted that he didn't need help paying the bills, because 'the hero can save the day all on his own!'

Despite the older boy's claims, Alfred often came home looking utterly exhausted, barely able to give Matthew a quick, tired grin, before he collapsed into bed.

Matthew couldn't stand the strain this arrangement was obviously putting on his previously carefree older brother. But no matter how or when it was brought up, Alfred shot down any suggestion that maybe Matthew should pick up a part-time job, because he needed some work experience anyways, and he'd always wanted to work at that sketchy restaurant down the road, really!

Eventually, Matthew got fed up with this nonsense, finally deciding that _what the hell_, he didn't need his brother's permission to get a job. And so began his hunt for work.

Unfortunately for Matthew, it turned out that very few (read: zero) respectable establishments (actually, not even the ones that weren't respectable in the least) wanted to hire a grungy, low-class kid who was only fifteen at the time anyways, was he even old enough to legally work?

By the time Matthew turned sixteen, he was extremely frustrated with how things were going. He'd been just standing around, a few blocks from his home, minding his own business while he contemplated the unfairness of the world and stubborn older brothers and child labour laws. He didn't even notice the man approaching him until he heard (a gravelly voice, a little bit creepy) "How much for the night?"

Matthew was taken aback, to say the least. He briefly wondered if it was a really shitty pickup line. But when he looked up and made eye contact with the man, it was clear that he was serious.

The Canadian didn't respond at first, stunned. But after a second or two of thought- _it is a job, right? And Alfred doesn't have to know_- the blond boy stuttered out his response (a three-digit number, maybe, he wasn't thinking clearly enough to remember) and carefully followed the man home.

No, this profession wasn't Matthew's personal preference. But a job was a job, and there were bills to pay, whether Alfred liked it or not.

And so he stood, alone on the street, waiting for his next paycheck to walk by.

_-page break-_

Gilbert Beilschmidt was just getting comfortable on his couch when a horribly obnoxious ringtone started playing several feet to his left. Letting out an incoherent grumble, the albino 19-year-old hauled himself to his feet again, sifting through dirty clothes scattered around his living room before he managed to locate his cell. He answered the call without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Ja? What is it?"

"Hola Gil!" A cheery, Spanish-accented voice responded. "Are you busy right now?"

"…not really, no. Why?" Gilbert returned to the couch, phone cradled between his shoulder and his ear as he examined his own fingernails.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to get together to watch a movie~!"

The albino perked up at this. "Oh, seriously? Sweet, that sounds awe-"

The Spaniard interrupted him. "Bueno! Ah, I should let Lovinito know-"

Gilbert's good mood instantly vanished. "_Lovinito_? Toni, who exactly would we be watching the movie with?" _I swear to Gott, if he's third-wheeling me-_

"Oh, just me and you and Lovi! Franny's out with Arthur, and Ludwig and Feli are having a sleepover, and Roderich is-"

Gilbert felt his eye twitch. "Toni, all I got from that is that you want to watch a movie, Lovino's going to be there, and if I tag along I'll just end up as a third wheel to you two." He couldn't help the slight bitterness that crept into his voice. If seemed that everyone he knew was happily paired off, while Gilbert was left alone to wallow in his awesomeness.

…Not that being alone was a _bad _thing. It was _awesome _being… alone…

Antonio didn't sound too happy with Gilbert's conclusion. "No, Gil, don't think like that! Don't worry, we'll just-"

"No, just forget it Toni. I've got… some cleaning to do or something. West'll be pissed beyond belief if he comes home to this." Gilbert sighed, running a hand through silvery hair. "Thank for the offer, though, I guess."

Silence on the other line for a moment. "Lo siento, Gil. We'll be starting around 9, in case you change your mind. Adiós."

"Ja, auf wiedersehen, Toni." A soft click followed by the dial tone indicated the end of the call.

Tossing his phone to a random pile of clothes, Gilbert groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "Gottverdammt… this is so unawesome…" After allowing himself a moment of self-pity, the self-proclaimed Prussian returned to his usual self, pushing aside the unawesome feelings to be dealt with later. "I need to get laid."

And so, for the second time in the last few minutes, Gilbert hauled himself off the couch, this time headed towards the front door. Sex had solved problems in the past, and he prayed silently that it would do the same now.

_-page break-_

It didn't take Gilbert long to reach the shady part of town in his old pickup. He drove aimlessly then, keeping his eyes open for anyone who looked like they were offering their… services.

It was another fifteen minutes before the albino spotted a very cute blond boy, seemingly only a few years younger than Gilbert himself (some part of his mind noted that the kid was probably around Lovino's age, but the rest of it quickly shut down all thoughts of the bitchy Italian).

He smoothly pulled up to the boy, rolling down the passenger-side window to speak to him. "How much for the night, kid?"

The boy looked slightly shocked, which caused Gilbert to panic (on the inside, obviously, he was far too awesome to show that sort of thing). _Please be a hooker, please be a hooker, I'm so fucked if he's not a hooker-_

"Hundred and twenty." The blond had recovered from his initial shock, apparently. "Deal?"

Gilbert didn't hesitate. "Deal. Hop in, kid."

"Matthew," the boy muttered. "My name's Matthew."

_-page break-_

The short drive back to Gilbert's house was a silent affair, broken only briefly when the Prussian man introduced himself-_ Gilbert's the name, being awesome is my game!_-and Matthew gave a short murmur of acknowledgement. It was perhaps a little awkward, given the circumstances under which the two had met, but, regardless, it was bearable.

Upon reaching the Beilschmidt home- Gilbert lived with his younger brother, Ludwig, though the latter was out tonight with a certain adorable Italian boy- the albino man quickly turned off his truck, pocketing the keys before turning to the blond beside him. "We're here, kid. Shall we?"

The younger of the two let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing at his forehead. "Could you _please _not call me that? I'm not that much younger than you... Mr. Gilbert." The last word was spoken almost as a question, like Matthew was unsure of how to address the Prussian.

Gilbert felt a slight smirk make its way onto his face. Gott, this kid was adorable. "Sure, sure, whatever. Let's go then, ja?"

The older male led the way up the driveway to the front door, pulling out and fiddling with his keys for a moment before locating the right one to unlock his house. He opened the door, flashing a grin at Matthew as he stepped to the side. "After you, cutie!"

At the nickname, the Canadian boy flushed slightly red, stuttering for a moment before turning resolutely away from Gilbert and entering the house.

It was by no means enormous. Gilbert's house was a relatively small, cozy place. A small front hall with a closet and coat rack was nearest to the door, and just beyond that were the rather open-planned living room, dining room, and kitchen areas. All sorts of clutter was thrown about the living room, whereas the kitchen remained spotless and the dining room fell somewhere between the two extremes. On the far side of the living room (equipped with a three-seater, a loveseat, a recliner, a couple small tables, and a TV) was a hallway which presumably led to bedrooms or bathrooms, while a stairwell past the kitchen hinted at a basement.

After closing and locking the door behind his... 'guest', Gilbert returned his attention to the blond in front of him, who was still busy taking in the house. Matthew was relatively fair-skinned (though not nearly as pale as Gilbert himself), with wavy, golden-blond hair that almost reached his shoulders. One long, stray curl stuck out stubbornly from the rest. The boy's eyes were a violet colour, partially obscured behind the glasses he was wearing.

All in all, he was pretty attractive.

This conclusion made Gilbert's previously admirable patience come to an abrupt end.

When he made his way over to the couch, Matthew followed obediently. The older of the two tilted his head in a gesture for the other to sit down. The blond complied, taking a shaky-sounding breath.

Gilbert pretended not to notice.

Gilbert lowered himself down until he was more or less straddling the boy, before grabbing the boy's chin and pulling him into a rough kiss.

It wasn't pretty. It was aggressive and messy and perhaps a little heartless. The older of the two bit down on Matthew's lower lip, causing him to gasp and allowing the kiss to be deepened.

It wasn't long before the crimson-eyed man grew bored with the kiss, choosing to instead move his mouth to Matthew's exposed neck, sucking and biting down harshly on one particular spot. Whether the blond boy was making sounds of pain or pleasure, Gilbert didn't know, and he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, either.

But when the albino looked up to continue kissing the boy's mouth, he couldn't ignore the look in the younger's eyes.

Fear. Real, genuine, fear.

Whatever detachment Gilbert might've felt in terms of Matthew's feelings flew right out the window. He let out a frustrated groan before rolling off the blond, flopping down next to him on the couch. He ran his fingers through silvery hair- a nervous habit, apparently- and let his head fall back with a slight _thunk _against the back of the couch.

"Fuck," the Prussian muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Um... M-mr. Gilbert? Are you-"

"Dammit Matthew," the man muttered. "Don't call me that, I'm only a few years older than you." Gilbert chose to ignore the fact that Matthew had said almost those exact words to him mere minutes ago.

Silence for a moment. "...Gilbert? Are you okay?"

"No, Matthew. Fuck, this is so unawesome. Who the fuck gets too depressed to have sex?"

And then Matthew did something strange.

"P-pardon? Do you not want to sleep with me?"

He started to panic.

"P-please Mr- I mean Gilbert, please, I really need this, I mean not the s-sex per say, but the money, because I'm in a really bad position at home, and I couldn't find anyone to hire me, and Alfred thinks he can pay the bills by himself, but he's wrong and I _want _to help, and... oh." Only then did the boy seem to realize he'd been rambling while Gilbert started at him, wide-eyed. "...maple."

There was another moment of silence before... Gilbert laughed. Very loudly. Matthew seemed somewhat startled, jumping a bit. "Maple?Gott, as if you weren't cute enough already. But seriously, calm down. I'm way too awesome to skip out on the bill." He gave the younger boy as reassuring smile.

"Um... that's very nice of you, Gilbert, but... What do you plan on doing? If you don't want... um, sex that is." Matthew's face reddened a bit. "You, um... have me for the whole night, after all..."

This seemed to stump the albino for a moment- a very short moment, though, as an excited look crossed his face. Gilbert's eyes darted over to a clock hanging on the wall before abruptly diving off the couch... into a pile of what looked like dirty laundry.

"...Gilbert?"

But the Prussian man ignored him in favour of digging his cell out from the pile and quickly dialing, pressing the phone to his ear eagerly.

"Hey, Toni! You still down for movie night? I'll be bringing a friend..."

_-page break-_

Matthew was feeling a little bit bewildered during the drive to Antonio's house. First of all, Gilbert was completely bombarding him with information- first about himself (he had a little brother, they'd lived in Germany previously, he was a history major in university), and then about the friend whose house they were bound for (which included many a warning about 'Toni's bitchy Italian boyfriend', which successfully made Matthew even more worried than he'd been before).

The poor blond could only sit and listen. But after allowing himself to relax somewhat, and taking a moment to appreciate his current situation (the lack of sex was a welcome change), he found that he actually _enjoyed _listening to the older boy speak. It was strange, but Matthew was now looking forward to the 'movie night', as Gilbert had called it.

Arriving at the right address, Gilbert hopped out of the truck, turning to flash Matthew a wide, toothy grin and gesture for the boy (who was still sitting in the car, looking nervous) to follow him. After a moment of hesitation (and a second of whiplash from Gilbert's apparent 180 mood change), he did.

The taller of the two knocked on the door confidently, turning to the other immediately after. "Don't look so freaked, Matt! Antonio's a good guy, not to mention he's almost as awesome as I am! But seriously, watch out for Lovino, I swear to God he bites or some shit-"

That was when the door swung open, revealing a tall, smiling man, with curly brown hair and emerald green eyes. Matthew guessed that this was Antonio.

"Gil! Buenas noches, I'm so glad you decided to come!" The Spaniard's attention shifted to the petit blond standing slightly behind his friend. "And who's this? I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" The brunet stuck out a hand to shake, which Matthew accepted somewhat shyly.

"This is mein awesome friend, Matthew!" Gilbert grinned proudly, like befriending the shy blond was a huge achievement. "Isn't he cute?"

That was Matthew's cue to turn pink in the face, eyes widening somewhat as he was so blatantly complimented (despite the numerous times Gilbert had said similar things earlier that evening).

Antonio laughed before pulling the door open wider and stepping back to allow the guests to enter. In the general direction of what was probably a living room, he called out "Lovi! Gilbert's here, and he has a friend~!" The Spaniard led the way to the living room (which was much cleaner than Gilbert's, Matthew noted), where an olive-skinned brunet boy crouched in front of a large TV, fiddling with what Matthew presumed to be a DVD player.

The younger of the two brunets looked up from... whatever it was he'd been doing, directing a scowl at Gilbert. "Dammit Antonio, I thought he wasn't coming?" The Italian's gaze shifted to Matthew, whom he eyed with confusion and slight suspicion. "And who the hell are you?"

Matthew flinched slightly at the harsh tone, but decided he should man up and respond before Gilbert snapped at the boy (because he really _didn't _want to make a bad impression on Lovino, whether he'd ever see him again or not). So, biting his lip slightly, he spoke up. "I'm M-matthew. Matthew Williams." The blond smiled slightly, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake.

The Italian boy eyed the hand with suspicion for a moment before sighing and stepping forward to accept the gesture. "Lovino Vargas. I wasn't aware that the albino bastard had friends who weren't... well. Bastards."

Matthew laughed lightly as Gilbert shouted out an objection. "We just met today, actually..." The Canadian trailed off, suddenly nervous all over again. Would either brunet ask how they met? Would Gilbert tell the truth? Oh, wonderful, now he was freaking out again-

"Yo, Mattie!" Matthew blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing that Gilbert was addressing him. Usually only Alfred called him that. "Since you and Lovino seem to be getting on so well, we're gonna go find some food for the movie, 'kay?" Without waiting for a response, the Prussian and the Spaniard left the room, presumably headed for the kitchen.

Returning his attention to Lovino, Matthew was a little thrown off when he noticed that the other boy was staring at a very specific spot on his neck, frowning.

"Um, Lovino-"

"Are you and the albino bastard dating?" Lovino interrupted.

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise, and perhaps a little embarrassment. "N-no! W-we're just friends, what made you think that-"

"You have a hickey," the Italian replied bluntly.

Eyes widening ever further if possible, the blond's hand flew up to cover the spot where- _oh god, where Gilbert had given him a hickey_-Lovino's eyes were fixated. "N-no, you're got it all wrong, w-we're not dating, I-I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Denial isn't going to get you anywhere, you know." While Matthew continued to stutter out defence, seeming to before increasingly more panicked, Lovino's frown deepened, eyes darkening somewhat.

"That fucker didn't... force anything on you, did he?" Matthew's stunned silence sent the Italian into a rage. "Ugh, that stupid fucking bastard! Shit, I knew Antonio's friends were perverted as fuck, but seriously, what the actual fuck was he thinking, doing that and then inviting you over here like his date or something-"

And that was when Matthew started laughing. Laughing _quietly_, mind you, but laughing nonetheless.

Any concern for the blond Lovino might've been showing flew out the window as his face lit up bright red. "Dammit, fine! Just fucking laugh, then, Jesus, not like I even cared about your fucking well-being anyways-"

"Ah, no, Lovino, I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I just... sorry. No, it was just kind of funny, because, well, um. What you said was kind of the opp- well, it wasn't what happened, anyways. Um. We're not dating."

The brunet scowled quietly for a moment. "...did he give you that hickey?" he asked.

"Um. Well. Yes." It was Matthew's turn to blush.

"Well that makes no fucking sense, but fine. Just go ahead and be confusing then. Jesus." And so Lovino went back to finish messing around with the DVD player as Gilbert and Antonio re-entered the room, weighed down by armfuls of popcorn, chips, pop, and… assorted chocolates? Matthew's mouth watered at the sight.

"Awesome, we can finally start! Let's do this!" Gilbert cheered.

Matthew smiled.

_-page break-_

They ended up squished together, all on a (fairly large) three-seater couch. There _was _another one in the room, but Antonio insisted on sitting with Lovino, who decided he didn't want to be alone with the Spaniard on the loveseat (which, he assured them, was definitely _not _because they had company), so Matthew sat beside him, and of course Gilbert was too awesome to sit by himself, and anyways, Mattie was _his _friend, not Lovino's, which he claimed gave him veto rights to sit next to the blond on the couch.

Thus, their squished seating plan. But luckily, it _was _a large couch, so everyone was mostly comfortable.

'Movie night' apparently translated to 'chick flick marathon night', as Matthew learned very quickly (when the menu screen for _Mean Girls _finished loading). The (disturbingly large?) repertoire of said movies owned by the brunet couple included _Devil Wears Prada, The Last Song, Monte Carlo, Easy A, She's the Man, A Cinderella Story_, and _Freaky Friday_.The plan was to go until no one was awake enough to change the DVD.

It was halfway through _Easy A _that Matthew realized he had started leaning against Gilbert. Too sleepy to attempt to sit upright again, the Canadian simply yawned and shuffled closer.

Gilbert, meanwhile, was trying not to let out several (unmanly) noises in response to how _cute _the boy was being. After struggling with himself for awhile, the Prussian decided to just go with the weird feelings he was having, and proceeded to lift his arm and wrap it around the boy's smaller frame, pulling him closer.

Matthew's previously half-closed eyes flew open while he let out a little squeak of surprise. When his violet orbs met Lovino's hazel ones, the Italian was giving him an amused look. His eyes seemed to say "and you _aren't _dating?"

Perhaps a little hypocritical, considering that the brunet was comfortably curled up against the chest of the Spaniard whose affection had been so casually rejected earlier.

Matthew's face heated up, and he contemplated pulling away, but... he was actually quite content with his position. So he turned his attention back to the TV and let his eyes slip shut, carefully nuzzling his face into Gilbert.

The last thing he heard before drifting off was Gilbert's quiet chuckle at the blond's actions.

_-page break-_

"Matthew. Matt. Mattie." The Canadian boy let out an incoherent mumble, snuggling into... a warm, breathing, pillow, apparently. He didn't really feel like waking up yet.

"Kid. Wake up, kid."

...well that just wasn't acceptable. "Don't call me that," Matthew muttered, eyes still squeezed shut. "I'm only a few years younger... oh."

And with the familiar statement, the previous night made its presence known in Matthew's memory. Movie night? Which meant he was likely still at Antonio's house. Alfred was going to flip out...

...it also meant that the 'warm, breathing, pillow' was probably Gilbert.

_That _thought was enough to actually wake the blond. His eyes flew open and he struggled to sit up, pushing against... Gilbert, probably, with his hands. For some reason, his vision was blurred, he couldn't see, oh god what was happening-

"Whoa, Mattie, chill! Your glasses. Here." A familiar pair of metal-and-glass spectacles was placed in one of his hands. Matthew paused for a moment, still a little groggy (not to mention sore; sleeping on the couch (and Gilbert) had done quite a number on his spine) before unfolding the glasses and putting them on. The world returned to focus, and the Canadian let out a sigh of relief.

Gilbert- how Matthew didn't recognize the German accent earlier was beyond him- snickered, flashing the younger a smirk. "You're fun in the mornings, aren't you? Anyways, we should probably get going before sleeping beauty-" he gestured to Lovino, snuggled up with Antonio, both still sleeping soundly on the other end of the couch, "-wakes up and figures out we slept over. Shit will be flipped."

Matthew blinked slowly before nodding and standing up. He took a moment to stretch, basking in the satisfying pops and cracks, before following Gilbert, already headed towards the front door. Exiting the house, the albino locked up with a spare key tucked under the welcome mat before leading the way to the now-familiar truck.

Once they were both inside, Gilbert turned to the smaller boy. "Is there somewhere... er... where you want me to drop you off?"

Matthew quickly relayed his address to the Prussian, and the drive commenced in silence. Oddly enough, Matthew was feeling sort of... sad. He realized that he was going to miss this strange man, this Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Caught up in his musings, Matthew didn't realize that they'd reached his home until Gilbert muttered a quiet "we're here." Biting his lip slightly, the blond undid his seat belt and placed a hand on the door. Without looking at the albino man, he started to speak.

"Goodbye, Gilbert. Thank you for, um... everything." He made a move to open the door, but a pale hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! Hold up, Mattie." There was some rustling around, and what sounded like... a pen?... before a small wad of bills was slipped into Matthew's hand. "I did say I was too awesome to skip the bill, right? Well, here you go Mattie."

The Canadian felt sadness creep up on him. He'd almost been hoping to get away without Gilbert paying him. Accepting money for their night spent together made him just another customer. "Thank you," the boy muttered again, and opened the door.

But he couldn't get out before the same pale hand that'd stopped him before grabbed his wrist again. Sighing tiredly, Matthew turned back to the older man to see what he wanted-

-and was beyond surprised when a pair of lips were gently pressed against his.

Unlike the kiss they'd shared the previous night, there was no aggression here. Gilbert was slow and gentle, pulling away after a moment to give the other a sweet smile.

"That should've been our first kiss," he said simply. "Bye, Mattie. See you around."

Matthew nodded slowly and climbed out of the truck, closing the door behind him and walking to his own front door. He didn't bother looking back when he heard Gilbert driving away.

After making his way inside, and determining that, yes, Alfred _was _at work, the Canadian boy let himself fall onto an old couch that dominated the small living room. Absent-minded, he started thumbing through the bills the albino had handed him, not bothering to actually count the money (was it strange that he trusted the man?), when he came across a folded piece of paper. Curious, Matthew unfolded and smoothed it out, feeling a smile inch its way onto his face as he read the messy cursive note and subsequent string of numbers.

_Meet you again, same place, tomorrow night? I'll be waiting, Mattie!_

_-Gilbert 'the awesome' Beilschmidt_

_PS- Call me. You know you want to!_

**-end-**

**Well, I hope you guys liked it! Oh, before I forget, I'd like to give a million thank yous to my awesome beta Sara, who is… in Paris right now, so she won't see this for a while, haha.**

**Oh, as for translations. Um, everything I used was. Pretty basic? So… yeah (totally not because I'm lazy pfft). Feel free to correct me on German/Spanish/Italian, as I speak none of these languages. Google Translate is my best friend.**

**Alright, I think that's everything. Thanks for reading, and maybe leave a review? :D**

**Edit: Fixed some typos. Feel free to point those out, by the way, because I suck at noticing them. :)**

**Edit 2: More typos, yay! Fixed an issue with spacing that may or may not have been caused by italics. Anyways, yeah :)**


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